It all seemed like a fever dream

When Christopher entered the scene

From afar you could tell he was lonely

He walked a black briefcase on wheels everyday

In the backstreet of opportunity

Is where he'd like to spent most of his days

Devout to religions he knows to be true

Yet he'd never force them upon you

No he'd never force them upon you

It all feels like a reverie now

Kicking footballs in the summer sun

The dalmatian next door barks on

And the rabbi waters his lawn

In the window of the synagogue arch

Sun shines through stained church glass

Those sunsets could never last

Oh, those sunsets of the past

And Christopher stands alone now

Underneath the holy arch

And he's placing flowers by the window

He leaves as he loosens his grasp

In the backstreet of opportunity

Is where he decides to ask

"Could you please drive me to my car

I promise it's not that far"

I promise it's not that far

Christopher says we're close now

As he points to the cars afar

His black briefcase full of clothes

Is the first to leave the car

And in the waiting of the traffic lights

He continues to walk past

Turns out, he didn't have a car

No he never had a car

And it seems so long ago now

Watching Christopher below the arch

The flowers have grown old and bitter

Amongst the overgrown grass

In the night he came over knocking

Hinting if he could crash

Although, he never asked

No, he never cared to ask

It all seemed like a fever dream

When Christopher entered the...